


The Taxidermist's Grandson

by Link_Ryder



Category: The Taxidermist's Grandson
Genre: Blood and Gore, Death, Deception, Gen, Gore, Horror, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Pain, Taxidermy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Link_Ryder/pseuds/Link_Ryder
Summary: Larry Maitland goes to his grandfather’s house one summer as a way to escape the pain at home. Only to find out his taxidermist grandfather has a secret. A secret Larry will soon learn is deadly. Will Larry join the dead?





	The Taxidermist's Grandson

The car drove effortlessly down Raymond Avenue, and Larry quickly approached his grandfather’s house. Raymond Avenue was a dirt road in the middle of small town with only one house at the end of the street. Flora of all sorts surrounded the house itself, and on a good day, a deer or two would pass by. The town of Manorville, Long Island was the “Last Old Town,” as Larry’s grandfather described it. Larry's grandfather's house was the oldest of them all; no electricity, no indoor plumbing, just a wood fire stove and nature like the olden days. It was the first time Larry had seen his grandfather since his heart attack, and without any news on his grandfather’s condition, he was anxious. To Larry, his grandfather was the father he never had. His birth father was a drunk who regularly abused Larry and his mother both physically and emotionally. His only escape was his grandfather, a kind-hearted taxidermist, who always knew the right words to say whenever Larry was feeling down. The car slowed to a halt, he said goodbye to his parents, took his duffle bag out of the trunk, and entered the house. 

As always, his grandfather was sitting at the dinner table working on one of his taxidermy animals, a raccoon. “Hello Larry.” he bellowed as Larry entered his home. The heart attack hadn’t changed him, at least not on the outside. 

“Hey,” Larry replied as he took a seat next to his grandfather. “Are you OK?”

“Yes, yes of course. They put a pacemaker on my heart, and now I’m good as new. I promise. Now where in my story was I. Hmmm. Oh, I remember.” The last time they saw each other, three weeks ago, Larry’s grandfather was telling him a story from when he first opened his taxidermy store. He told Larry about a hundred of those stories over the years, sometimes repeating some when his memory failed him. Larry could listen to them forever, but he knew his grandfather didn’t have that long, so he relished every opportunity he had to hear a new one. “So this guy walks in, tattoos all over his arms, with his dead dog in his hands. The dog wasn’t even dead for six hours yet, but the large tattooed man brought his dog, fluffy, in to be stuffed ‘cause he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. A really tough guy, he looked like he was in a gang or something, crying over his dead dog.” his grandfather laughed and played around with the wedding ring on his finger. It had been three months since his wife, Larry’s grandmother, Donna Maitland died. She was buried behind the house in a grave, Larry’s grandfather, Arthur, dug himself.  She was the light of Arthur’s life, the Yin to his Yang and when she died, he was devastated. He never really got over it, but he found a way to cope, a secret that Larry would soon learn. Larry spent the rest of the day listening to Arthur’s stories and laughing at his jokes. That night he knew this summer was going to be great. 

The next day, Arthur woke Larry up at six o’clock and they headed into town on foot. Arthur preferred to walk than to use the “death traps we call cars,” he considered cars to be the devil’s machine. He sometimes biked, but that morning was perfect for a walk. Larry and Arthur took a 5-mile walk from Raymond Avenue into the town of Manorville. Larry was surprised to see that for an old man, his grandfather was quick and agile when walking. When asked about it, Arthur looked at Larry and smiled, “I was a great runner back in my day.” Arthur opened the doors to his taxidermy store at eight and went to the back to prepare the animals to be picked up while Larry worked the front. Thirty minutes after opening the sheriff arrived.

“Goodmirning Larry, glad to see you, how’s ninth grade?” Sheriff Butler asked politely.

“Good, the works not that much, but it should pick up next year,” Larry answered. 

“Goodmorning sheriff, what can I do for you?” Arthur inquired.

“Goodmirning Mr. Arthur,” Sheriff Butler said tipping his hat. “Two explorers arrived here a few days ago, you know the hippie type.” the sheriff said while taking a hit from an imaginary blunt. Arthur looked at Larry and smiled. Most of the people in Manorville were prejudice to outsiders. To them, once you’re not from Manorville or related to anyone that’s from Manorville, you’re ruining their culture. “They ordered a room for three nights and paid for it up front, but they only stayed for one night. They left the next day with their knapsacks to explore the woods but never came back. I'm wondering, did you see them around your area?”

“Nope, I didn’t see any explorers, but knowing those city folk, they probably found our beautiful town boring and left,” Arthur answered.

“Yup, that’s what I was thinking. Well, thank you for your time.” Officer Butler replied and left. The rest of the morning went slowly; a few people were in and out taking pictures or collecting their stuffed animals. At lunchtime, Larry ate while Arthur explained to him the intricate technique of taxidermy. Since he could remember, Larry had loved taxidermy. Something about it just intrigued him; maybe it was the ability to breathe new life into dead animals or just the gore of it all, either way, Larry liked it. Now that he was old enough, Arthur was finally going to let him work on his first animal, a bird named Lucy. Larry flipped Lucy onto her back, found a featherless spot and began an incision from the base of the tail to just below the beak. Just as he was about to separate the bird’s skin from its torso, someone called out from the front of the shop. 

“Hey, I’m Larry, how may I help you?” Larry said, surprised to see a girl around his age standing in front of him. 

“Hi, I’m Amelia, but everyone calls me Amy. My aunt, Stevie, owns the motel down the street and she told me to introduce myself. I’m here for the summer, and it’s my first time visiting Manorville. It seems we’re the only two teenagers here.” the girl said. Amy was a tall, slim, brunette with beautiful blue eyes and Larry couldn’t help but get lost in them. 

“Uh-um, yeah, I guess we are. If you want I’m off work here around three; I can show you around the town.” Larry offered.

“Oh sure, that’ll be great,” Amy replied. “I’ll meet you in front of the motel at three fifteen, OK?”

“OK, that’s great, I’ll see you then.” Larry smiled. Three fifteen couldn’t come any slower for Larry. “Hey,  are you ready?” Larry asked when he finally met up with Amelia. She nodded. Larry took her all over the town, talking and flirting. From the sheriff’s office on the northern end, to Old Man Artigas’ secluded house in the east, and finally concluding at ‘Ville Creek in the southern end of the town. “I come here sometimes to skip stones and just be by myself,” Larry said, tossing a rock onto the surface of the water and watching it skip. 

“You’re gonna think I’m stupid, but I don’t know how to do that,” Amelia confessed.

“You don’t know how to skip stones?” Larry asked. Amelia shook her head, no. “Oh, well, I don’t think you’re stupid, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like they have many creeks in New York City, right?”

“Yeah there aren’t many, but I’m fifteen, I should know how to skip stones.”

“If you want I can teach you now.”

“Really, that’ll be cool.”

“OK, so first you wanna pick up a flat stone like this one, then toss it into the water like so,” Larry instructed. 

“Like this?” Amelia said tossing a stone. The stone hopped on the water eight times before falling in.

“Wow, you’re a natural,” Larry said surprised. Then he sat down on the gravel admiring the beautiful reflection of the sunset on the water.

“Thanks.” Amelia smiled and sat down next to Larry. After a few minutes of staring into the water, Amelia looked at Larry, and he looked at. They stared deeply into each other's eyes. Amelia began to lean in slowly, Larry followed with his eyes closed, but just before their lips met an alarm on Amelia’s phone went off. “Oh shoot, it’s late I’ve gotta go. My aunt will kill me if I’m late to dinner. Sorry.” she said as she ran off.

Larry decided to take a shortcut through the woods to get to his grandfather’s house. While in the forest, he saw the light from a fire on his grandfather’s property. Larry began to walk toward the fire; his walk turned into a run as he came closer to it. He reached a campfire and noticed two men with large backpacks in hiking gear sitting on logs surrounding it. “Hello, are you guys the explorers?” Larry inquired while walking toward the men. The explorers didn’t answer; they simply sat there staring at Larry with their lifeless eyes. When he reached them, Larry poked one in the middle of his head. The explorer fell to the floor with a thump. Startled, Larry began to back away, stumbled and fell hitting his head on a log. He picked himself up and looked at the woman sitting on the log; it was his grandmother. He screamed and then felt a breath on his neck.

“I see you’ve found my special projects. You know something, it’s harder making taxidermy out of humans than any other animal. At least that’s my opinion.” Arthur said as he sat on the log, next to his deceased wife. He began stroking her hair, “I was hoping you didn’t stumble upon this, I wanted to show myself and hopefully convince you to join me. But I guess I have to rush things. Taxidermy is an art, and we are artists. I've been doing this for thirty or so years of my life. Never have I worked on an animal as amazing as a human. I always wanted to, I always felt an urge, but until three months ago I was able to fight it. You're at the age when I first felt the urge, trust me you're going to want to do this sooner or later. So what do you say, do you want to join me, indulge your urge?”

“No, no of course not. You're a murderer this is wrong. I’m sorry, I love you, but I have to tell the police.” Larry answered and began to back away from his grandfather.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. Now I have to kill you. Trust me, this brings me no joy.” said Arthur. Larry’s slow backing away soon turned into a run. “Come back here; you’ll be just like your grandmother.” Larry ran as fast as he could into a small cave he found when he was a kid. In the cave, he found a rusty shovel, picked it up, exited the cave, and hid. “Come here Larry!” is all Arthur kept yelling. The voice grew louder as Arthur came closer, closer, closer. BANG! Arthur fell to the floor, and the earth began to absorb the blood from the back of his head.

Larry stood over his grandfather’s body and felt an urge. An urge to perform taxidermy on his grandfather. An urge he couldn’t resist. Larry grabbed his grandfather's legs and pulled his unconscious body through the woods and into Arthur’s taxidermy shed. Larry struggled but managed to put his grandfather’s large body onto the table. He then cut his grandfather’s femoral artery causing him to bleed to death. After his grandfather was dead, Larry made a Y-incision on his grandfather’s abdomen, as he’d seen on crime shows, and began to remove his organs. After the organs were removed, Larry made an incision on his grandfather's neck and removed the cartilage. When he was finished, he moved to the head. Larry cut off his grandfather’s scalp and with a hand saw cut open his skull. After removing the brain, he moved to the legs and arms. Larry made incisions on the arms and legs and removed the muscles and veins. He returned to the abdomen, took out the fat, tissue and flesh, being careful not to damage the spine or cut the skin. After the body was prepared, Larry sprinkled a borax and cornstarch mixture on it and left it to dry out. A few hours later, he stuffed and stitched the body, and put it at the campsite next to his grandmother. 

The next day, Larry opened and ran the shop by himself. His excuse for his grandfather's absence at the shop was "he is very sick." After work, Larry hung out with Amelia again. He brought her to his grandfather’s house, and they watched movies until six o’clock. “I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Amelia said as her alarm went off.

“Are you sure? Can’t you ask her to have dinner here?” Larry questioned. 

“That’s a good idea,” Amelia replied and called her aunt. Her aunt agreed to it, and Larry, with Amelia’s help, made spaghetti. When he was finished, he took out three plates and put spaghetti on them. One plate he carried inside his grandfather’s room "for him to eat.” The other two were for him and Amelia. Amelia poured some wine into glasses for the both of them. “Where’s the bathroom?” she asked.

“Down the hall, first door on the left,” Larry replied. He took this opportunity as a moment to strike. Larry didn’t want Amelia to leave again, and he was going to make sure she stayed with him forever. He took some sleeping pills, crushed them up, and stirred them into Amelia’s wine. Thirty minutes after their meal, Amelia fell asleep on Larry’s shoulder in the middle of her story. Larry got up, took a pillow, and pressed it onto Amelia’s head. A few seconds later, she died. Larry picked up her dead body, carried it to the shed and did the same thing he did to his grandfather, to her. When he finished, he picked her up and walked to the campsite. 

“Grandpa, grandma,” he said. “This is my girlfriend, Amelia.”


End file.
